


Looking Fresh and Brand New

by PirateQueenNina



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Felicity the hacking genius, Mention of an OC Character, No Canary and Arrow stuff, Romance, domestic scene, happy Laurel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateQueenNina/pseuds/PirateQueenNina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver sees Laurel truly happy for the first time in years and he's not sure how to deal with that, but when someone disrupts that happy he is displeased to see the smile go from her face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Fresh and Brand New

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Looking Fresh and Brand New  
> Words: 2517  
> Pairing: Laurel/Oliver  
> Genre: Comfort/Romance  
> Status: Done

The first time he saw her after he broke up with Sara, she had a new haircut and she was talking to some guy with the widest smile on her face.  She looked right out of a picture, beautiful, perfectly made up, and happy. He kept on walking, because she deserved to be happy.

He thought of her all day. Consistently about her smile, about how wide it was with that guy and how she looked so damn happy.  He hadn't seen her that happy in years. But that smile, it was free and like she didn't have to guard anything.

He wondered if he should check in on the guy.  Someone who made Laurel that happy was obviously someone he liked on one hand, but on the other, if they could manipulate Laurel into that amount of freedom with things she kept very private, he wanted to know about it.  Given his life as a vigilante, anything was possible.

He stepped into the Penthouse Office of Queen Consolidated and looked at Felicity, who was typing something vigoriously on her tablet, "Felicity," He said.

She didn't even look up when she put a finger up to him and continued to type, "One second," He waited for her to be done with whatever.  Which took a significantly longer time than one second.  "Sorry, that was a man with a goat. Long story.  One I probably shouldn't get into with my boss. As much as your my friend. Who actually likes me. And now probably thinks I sacrifice goats. I don't. I promise. It's just a long story.  So, what do you need?" She asked him, blinking a couple of times.

He sighed. He was really gonna do this.  Yep. He was was sinking to that level. "Laurel was standing on the corner of Sumatra and Houston with a guy.  I'd like to know who he was please." 

"Anything specific I'm looking for?" She asked him, eyebrow quirked.

God, this was humiliating. Why did she have to smile like that with that guy? "Nope, just making sure he's not a bad guy is all.  Have to vet everyone, you know how it goes." He said and drug himself to his desk.

"I do," She said, "I wish I didn't. There are some things about your friends, you'd really rather not know. Like how many times they've had Mono or the Clap. Which is alarming high in the group of friends I have. Seriously, I should look for new friends. Not that sex is wrong, but that just seems really irresponsible.  And if they're irresponsible with their own life who says they won't be with mine?" She babbled, even though he clearly wasn't listening. 

He went to board meetings, helplessly bored out of his mind. All of it seemed really pointless. They didn't actually care whether he was listening or not.  They came and stood in front of him and talked, even when it was clear he was not interested in listening. And as he was prone to doing that day, he thought of Laurel and the way that dress floated away from her body in the most beautiful and how the sun had been hitting her just right.  

"So what do you think of the proposal?" the unimportant person asked in a meek voice.

He waved his hands around, "Just send me the budget plan and projections and we'll see if this is a viable option. So are there any more people we have to meet for these proposal meetings?" He asked the coordinator of this whole shindig.  

"Oliver," Felicity called him and he looked over to her like she was the most excellent person in the world "You have a phone call in your office and it's urgent." 

He admitted that she was better at lying than he was.  No one else would ask him about a phone call. "Well, I'm sorry Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems as if we'll have to reschedule the rest of this," He told them, "Email Felicity by the end of the day and I'm sure we can get something set up," He told them as he bolted. 

"You looked bored in there. Like senior engineering student taking calc II for kicks bored. Why do you do that to yourself? Seriously, someone else could just do it. You have the money and resources for someone to be the project manager.  You would literally only have to come up here to make sure that your name was signed on things." 

This wasn't a thing he wanted to get into. Suffice to say that even though it was boring, he felt an obligation to his father.  Where he couldn't kill in his father's memory, he could at least let the company that his father had built into a massive success not run into the ground. "I have you to tell me whether things work or don't when I need help and that's all I'm gonna need for now," He assured her as they came into the penthouse, "Now, phone call, I assume that means you have some information on the guy?" He asked, excited about this. 

"Yes, phone call. Guy. Right," She said as she went to her computer and quickly pulled up all that she could find on the guy.  "So I looked at that intersection you told me and found the guy.  Got a good picture of his face and ran it through databases, clean, but he went to Priestley Prep for Boys in Gotham, a hoity toity only accepts the best with money private school and he want to Harvard, but can't put that past him.  His name is Jonathan Cornelius Rowling, the third.  Pulled up his page on facebook and twitter and seems like a pretty normal guy with a pretty normal life.  He and Laurel seem to have met at the Fireman's Gala, but he's just a guy.  Honestly, with the way they exchange text messages and emails and the way she was looking at him, I'd say they were dating, but you never know.  Guys like that are weird," She rambled.  

He never expected Felicity to have a filter, but wow, really? That much? "Why do you think they're dating?" He asked.

"Oh, good question," She said, minimizing one window and pulling up another. "I got into his network, long story, sort of gray actually, but anyway, I got into his network and looked at his text messages and emails.  First of all, he checks his emails a lot more frequently since he's met Laurel. And he texts her more than anyone else on his phone, including Tripp, who I assume is his best friend who has an affinity for Lacrosse and Weed. Sometimes at the same time. Oh rich people. They never grow up do they?"  Then she realized what she said and cursed, "I mean obviously, you did, but guys like Tripp. There were a lot of them at MIT and now I'm gonna shut up," 

He saw her at the club and she was dancing with some of her girlfriends. It had been awhile since she'd been out with them.  It was good that she was getting there. She didn't have a drink in her hand, but she looked like the girl he fell in love with, so giggly and happy. She wasn't with Rowling which actually seemed sort of nice, but also sort of stung, because he couldn't just go over there and tell her how he felt, because Rowling would be in the way. 

He didn't leave her alone this time, but he went and helped Thea with some of the work around the bar. It was better to leave her alone.  She didn't want to see him anyway. She'd probably rip him a new asshole for breaking up with Sara, because even if it had been so very unfair to her and he saw that now, yes, it was definitely unfair, she still wanted her sister and him to work. 

He looked to her every so often and smiled. He, apparently, did this so often that Thea sneaked up on him. "You know you can go talk to her Ollie? Instead of being the creepy guy behind the bar?" 

He gave Thea an overdramatic shocked expression, "I never thought of thought, you have opened my eyes to a world of possibilities," He said and then he looked back to her. "But no, she doesn't want to talk to me right now. She's happy. I mean, just look at that smile," 

"It has been a long time since I've seen her like that.  Probably since you." Thea commented with a bit of a smile of her own.  Her brother was so stupid. But he'd have to come to the conclusions on his own.

Laurel continued to dance with her girlfriends and had a good time.  There were a few guys that came up and had a couple of dances with them, but they were all booted relatively quickly by Laurel. 

And this went on for awhile with Oliver looking on.

Then there was a guy who wouldn't leave.  And he went after to Laurel. First, Oliver gripped the towel he held when Laurel looked visibly uncomfortable with the guy.

She tried to get away from him and be with her girlfriends and he stood up, ready to throw the guy out of the club at any minute.  How the fuck did scum like this get into his doors? He knew he wasn't the best person when it came to treating women, but at least he could take a hint.

And then the man started pushing himself onto the girls and that was it.  That was it.  Oliver jumped over the bar and crossed the floor. "Hey!" He yelled, "Get your hands off the lady, she said stop."

"What's your problem man? She your wife or something? Because as fair as I'm concerned, she came onto me," The man dismissed.

In that split second, he had the awkward moment of explaining what they were or standing his ground and tell him that Laurel was his wife and look scary as the owner of the club.

It was not hard to figure out which one he chose.

"As a matter of a fact," He said, picking up the guy by the collar, "She is my wife. And no she didn't come on to you.  She was there with friends. And you will never visit my establishment again or trust me, you'll regret it."

Security came over and did its job and took the guy out of the club.  Thank god. He went to look back at Laurel who looked a little shaken up by everything. 

Her friends were packing up and getting ready to go.  As they said their goodbyes, Laurel stayed there. 

"Hey," He said as he sat down next to her. 

She shook her head.  Thankfully, there was no one around.  "What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked, accusatory tone dripping in her voice.

"Ummm....nothing?" 

"Then what the fuck was that display of machismo? And calling me your wife?" She asked him.  

He should have known.  This was gonna be the fight. Despite everything, Laurel never asked for help on her own. She never wanted the help of a man. The work of her father, never trust a man to do what you can.  "You were in trouble Laurel and he wasn't gonna go away. I was trying to protect you." 

"I don't need your protection all the time. And I certainly don't need you calling me your wife," She said as she played with her hands.

Laurel only did that when she was embarrassed.  Ah. So that was it. As much as she appreciated the gesture, she probably got questions and postmortems with her friends after the interaction. "So I'm sorry about that, I just needed to get him away from you. And he seemed to understand me better when I had a claim on you."

"You don't have a claim on me," Laurel stood her ground.

He chuckled to himself a little.  This woman. She was so passionate about so many things. "Yeah, I know. It was the first thing he came up with and I needed to pretend to know you in that situation for him to get it. Even if it wasn't pretend." 

"You don't get to pretend to know me, especially as a wife" She smiled as she bumped with her shoulder. "Not until we're actually that. Deal?"

He shook his head, "Deal." He said with a smile. "I'm sorry, I've been a jerk. You deserve better."  And then he realized what she said, "Wait....does this mean you're actually considering me again? I thought you were with that guy."

"What guy?" She asked. 

He blushed, "Jonathan Rowling III," He said.  "You looked happy with him the other day," 

"Oh, Jon, no. He's gay. And dating Tripp. And has a technically legal wife. But he's a riot and a great dancer. And he can talk about law with me over coffee." She told him, "Were you jealous?"

"Would you freak out if I said yes?"

She looked at him with a glint in her eye. "You had Felicity check up on him didn't you?" She asked him.

"Not my finest hour."

"No," She said with finality, "It doesn't freak me out.  You're trying to protect me.  Just like you always do." She rubbed his hand gently with the pad of her thumb, brought it up to her lips and smiled, "And I did mean it, you've always been a possibility for my future. Eve when you were gone. I'd dream about a life with you."

"You know, I'm not perfect."

It was her turn to shake her head. "We accept the love we think we deserve. I never thought you were perfect, but I was lucky to deserve you in my life.  And you know I'd never go easy on you. I want to push you."

He took her hand and smiled. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so glad I did it.  You're the best gift life ever gave me," He told her. It was true.  

Their lives weren't easy and they weren't usually fun. He stuck arrows in people who deserved to realize that they were hurting others. And she made sure they went to jail. They had complicated lives that the other would never really know about. He certainly didn't know the ins and outs of lawyering, though he did know a fair bit more than the average person because of his days as life of the party.  And she knew way more about vigilantism than a normal human because on occasion she called for his help.

"Thank you for helping me, Ollie" She said to him in a quiet voice and leaned on his shoulder, her truest way of showing that she meant it, affection. 

He shifted a little and cradled her head in his hands as he closed his eyes and only focused on her.  "You're welcome, Laurel,"


End file.
